Embarrassing Injuries
Sometimes your mind isn't quite on the job in hand, the throes of passion get, well, passionate and something goes painfully wrong. Ok, so you wouldn't tell your mates how you got injured, but you can tell us... we won't laugh. Much.
( , Thu 2 Sep 2004, 10:25)
Sometimes your mind isn't quite on the job in hand, the throes of passion get, well, passionate and something goes painfully wrong. Ok, so you wouldn't tell your mates how you got injured, but you can tell us... we won't laugh. Much.
( , Thu 2 Sep 2004, 10:25)
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Last year
I wasn't given a gym period and given I hate the class, I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Some people noticed (students, teachers, gym teachers), but all they said was I'd have to take two next year. That was fine with me. I didn't have to take it then. I then formed this brilliant plan to avoid injury in gym class, by not exerting myself. Besides, what harm could come from sitting in front of a computer?
Fast forward to May of the following year, where I can barely stand due to insane back pain from stiff muscles.
I recuperate. It comes every now and then, but for most of the summer, I'm fine.
As soon as I get home from theatre camp, I spend about twelve hours on the computer. Since my first day home to this moment, I cannot bend at the waist and I have to hobble.
I acknowledge I am a fucking idiot.
( , Mon 6 Sep 2004, 0:32, Reply)
I wasn't given a gym period and given I hate the class, I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Some people noticed (students, teachers, gym teachers), but all they said was I'd have to take two next year. That was fine with me. I didn't have to take it then. I then formed this brilliant plan to avoid injury in gym class, by not exerting myself. Besides, what harm could come from sitting in front of a computer?
Fast forward to May of the following year, where I can barely stand due to insane back pain from stiff muscles.
I recuperate. It comes every now and then, but for most of the summer, I'm fine.
As soon as I get home from theatre camp, I spend about twelve hours on the computer. Since my first day home to this moment, I cannot bend at the waist and I have to hobble.
I acknowledge I am a fucking idiot.
( , Mon 6 Sep 2004, 0:32, Reply)
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